Remembering the evacuees
By Ann Shaw - 01/08/2007
I watched my uncle lead about a hundred children up the street. Every so often he stopped and from his clipboard he called out either one or two names. He then took the children to meet their host family. As I stood in the front room watching them approaching our house, the scenario momentarily reminded me of the story The Pied Piper of Hamelin I had recently read; however these were children not rats.
The day had finally arrived; we were to get children from east London to stay with host families throughout the valley because war was about to be declared. My uncle was a Relieving Officer, now called Social Worker and part of his role was to act as Billeting Officer distributing these children to their host families.
I lived with my aunt and uncle in the Rhondda Valley, Glamorganshire and for weeks before the big day, preparations were being frantically organised by the local government on the best way of carrying out this delicate task. I was sworn to secrecy by my uncle for weeks, even at my peril when the topic of conversation at school circulated about these strangers coming to live in our houses and also, share our school.
However I could not wait for their arrival. Advance information told me we were to have three sisters, so I was excited at the thought of four girls living and going to school together.
My uncle took his responsibility seriously and sensitively. He kept reminding me how sad these children would be feeling leaving their parents at a London station not knowing where they were going to live and who they would be living with. He had three assistants helping him on the day and I recall several meetings being held in our house whilst he frequently repeated to them again and again how imperative it was to be kind and understanding to the children. ‘Remember, they will be tired, hungry and confused when they arrive so do be warm- hearted with them if they cry or make a fuss about something he told them.
After all the talking, here they were standing outside our house whilst the neighbouring host family came to welcome them into their temporary homes. I couldn’t wait to meet our three girls and suddenly here they were, walking up the path to their future home. By now the number had diminished to about a dozen or so children and after bringing in the girls into our house to meet my aunt, my uncle continued with his job.
The girls walked into the kitchen, tired and weary and stared at the coal fire blazing in the black grate; they had never seen a live fire before. They told us their names, Audrey, Gill and Diane Aylott. After eating a hot dinner, they warmed to my aunt’s hospitality and very soon were telling her all about themselves.
Meanwhile Uncle Tom had some problems with an awkward host family in the next street and had to replace three children with another host family before making his way home. ‘Duty done’ he said cheerfully ‘but I did feel so sorry for some of the children, I hope they settle down’.
This evacuation was the first of two; they did not stay long in our valley as it turned out to be the ‘phoney war ‘ - the majority of children returned home. However, as the bombing increased in London, the two younger sisters returned to us with their friend Gretchen – back to three. This time quite a lot of returning children were organised by their parents
These children lived in densely populated areas in and around London with designated areas of parkland for recreation; what a difference they experienced to see green mountains each side and experience complete freedom when they climbed up and run down the mountainside laughing at the thrill sheer freedom. This was a regular ‘letting go’ after school, weather permitting of course.
The picture I hold in my mind is how these children felt walking up my familiar street and to them perhaps, an alien landscape. Later on the girls told us their main concern was, where they would be sleeping that night and most importantly, would their host family be welcoming and kind. In most cases the answer was yes but unfortunately it could be no.